


Never Alone

by irishfino



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Gen, westwells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 14:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6119809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishfino/pseuds/irishfino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry begins battling the numbing loneliness that resettles over his soul after Jesse is finally rescued. Iris can relate.</p><p>INCOMPLETE as of 5/26/16 due to author's hatred of hasty ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Opening Up

                Harrison Wells had many lovers on Earth-2, but no long term prospects. It was something that bothered him for many years before he accepted his lonely fate. He had his lab, his daughter, his inventions, and his money. It was enough. Usually. These days he felt displaced. He was displaced. He was on an entirely different Earth. An Earth he couldn’t fully explore because the man everyone knew as Harrison Wells was a murderous speedster with a penchant for the dramatic. He was stuck as S.T.A.R. Labs because of an evil speedster and he was stuck on this Earth because of an evil speedster. What luck. What terrible, horrible, no good, very bad luck. He didn’t mind self-imposed isolation, but this was another matter entirely. He longed to be a little bit freer than he was now. Jesse, bless her, was free. She was free to explore this Earth, its customs, its clothes, and cars, and whatever else caught her eye. She deserved that, at least. And he deserved to be trapped. If he had just admitted the particle accelerator had been leaking dark matter. If he could have just forgotten his damn ego and taken responsibility. If he had just – it didn’t matter now. He was where he was because of his choices. And his daughter suffered thanks to his choices as well. But she was safe now and that’s all he could ask for.

                Harrison moved through his days robotically. Two hard boiled eggs for breakfast, coffee, toast. Lunch was nothing or Big Belly Burger. Dinner was toast, jam, and clotted cream; his one guilty pleasure. He took no pleasure in his work, he did it for the distraction. The greys coloring S.T.A.R. Labs began to wear on him. The blues his sweet Jesse had used to decorate their shared rooms were of little comfort. The blue reminded him of waking in the middle of the night to her screaming and crying, looking for Zoom and shouting for him to help her. Blue and grey. Blue and grey. Blue and grey. Dull and painful.

                The days passed uneventfully for him, until the day Iris came down to the workshop he shared with Ramon. He didn’t notice her at first. He was busily scribbling equations and half-thoughts when she entered the doorway, but his “You’re being watched” senses kicked in and the scribbling stopped. He hadn’t been attacked, which was good; the person watching him was silent, which might be good. He half turned, staring at his visitor in profile. Iris West was rather plainly dressed in a black skirt, white button down, green cardigan, and black flats. He half-smiled at his little rhyme, half-smiled because he had company that didn’t drive him up a wall. She fidgeted a bit under his stare.

                “Hello, Miss West,” he said cordially. He turned to face her fully. “What brings you to my corner of S.T.A.R. Labs?”

                It was an innocent enough question, but Iris gave him a shaky smile. Worry twisted in his gut.

                “Is Jesse all right?” he asked, panic entering his voice.

                “She’s fine,” Iris replied quickly.

                He sighed. Good.

                “I actually came to see how you were doing. How you’re adjusting to life here on this Earth,” she said earnestly.

                “Ah,” he uttered.

                He set his marker down on the tray under the board. He was tired. He walked to his desk and sat down, taking off his glasses as soon as his butt hit the chair. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was tired and alone and scared. He didn’t particularly want to deal with this right now, but Iris was the only person who had asked her who hadn’t been obviously distracted with their own horrid life. He looked up when Iris sat on the corner of his desk as if she had planned to be there for a while. She looked down at him with warmth in her umber eyes. Warmth and openness. He blinked rapidly as he looked away; it was like staring into the sun.

                “I am… doing well enough,” he said roughly.

                “Ah,” she said softly. “World on your shoulders, but still alive and breathing.”

                He chuckled softly. “You know the type, I see.”

                “You could say that.”

                “I have Jesse back. I have my health. I have science. I’m fine.”

                He didn’t dare look at Iris as he spoke to her. He kept his eyes firmly focused on the many notepads of half-formed thoughts, doodles, and numbers that didn’t make any sense the longer he stared at them. He had a feeling she could read body language and if he looked her in the eye she could read his very soul.

                “You know,” she started quietly, “when Eddie died I felt alone. I had recently learned Barry was the Flash and he lied to my face about it. My dad kept the secret too. So did Eddie. So did everyone.” She paused and reached for one of his notebooks, running her fingers along the edges as if to distance herself from her story. “When Eddie died, I didn’t know who to talk to. I couldn’t talk to Barry, he felt Eddie’s death was his fault. Caitlin had just lost Ronnie after finally getting him back. Cisco was Caitlin’s one-man support team. My dad – my dad felt so guilty. I just sort of absorbed it for a while. I was angry and sad and very confused. And alone.”

                Her quiet words struck every nerve in Harrison’s body. He was grieving. He was grieving the life he lost, the Earth suddenly so far away, the lives affected by the particle accelerator leaking, everything, everything, everything his fault. He had done this. He had ruined lives. He killed those people. His eyes burned and his breath left him, his realization a punch in the stomach. He was his own undoing.

                He didn’t know why it happened or really how, but he found himself crying into Iris’ lap as she ran her hands over his head and through his hair. It felt good. It felt good to finally get it out. Since he’d come to this Earth he’d closed himself off, kept his pain hidden. He forced himself out of bed, each day filled with new scars, new pains, new bruises. He forced himself to keep going for Jesse. He forced himself to keep going because he should have been strong enough to save Jesse on his own. He’d been punched, shot, stabbed, hit by a giant gorilla, and beaten by an angry father, but he got up for Jesse. Even now, he got up for Jesse. She didn’t need to lose anything, anyone else. But it was hard and there were days he’d rather not get off his little cot and play pretend that everything was normal. Nothing was normal and everything hurt.

                Eventually, the tears stopped. Eventually, his shoulders stopped shaking. Eventually, he fell asleep, his head resting comfortably on Iris’ thighs, turned just enough for him to breathe comfortably. For one wonderful hour, his rest was peaceful. For one wonderful hour, he was not alone.


	2. Down and Dirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harrison gets his hands (and body) dirty.

                The S.T.A.R. Labs garden hadn’t been tended to since the particle accelerator exploded. Once a beautiful garden lined with benches and filled with various flowers, vegetables, and fruit, it was now an overgrown mess of weeds and filled with dead plants. The dome that once let in sunlight was filled with crack glass and holes from pieces that dislodged during the particle accelerator explosion. Sunlight filtered in, giving life to the dust awakened by Harrison’s footsteps.

                Harrison walked the perimeter of the garden with his hands clasped behind his back. It was approximately one hundred yards by one hundred yards, a fairly large garden for such a space. He looked at the garden through squinted eyes. He could make out old brick paths that had become overgrown. There were four paths in total, each path ending in the center where a large fruit bearing tree stood as silent witness to the life and death of the garden.

                Harrison didn’t mind manual labor. The pulling and tugging and ripping gave him an outlet for the anger he kept bottled inside. He clawed at the dirt until his hands were black with nutrient rich soil. He ripped off his shirt and tossed it somewhere mostly dirt free as sweat dripped down his brow. Soon his naked upper body looked like a map of rivers and land mass. He lost track of time as he lost his hands in the dirt.

                Soon, the bright light of the sun was nothing but a dusky glow. He’d made progress: a ten-foot by ten-foot square of dirt ready for planting and a massive pile of weeds and dead grasses for composting. It felt good to get his hands dirty. Exhaustion finally caught up with him and a short nap in the dirt was beginning to sound like the best idea he’d had in a long time. He slept for an hour before he was shaken awake by small hands.

                He slowly opened his eyes. The room was dark except for a few garden sconces at the base of the tree in the center. He blinked a few times before his eyes focused on the face hovering above his.

                “Miss West,” he said groggily. He cleared his throat. “I seem to have taken a dirt nap.”

                “Then I have officially saved your life and you have to grant me a wish,” she said playfully.

                He arched an eyebrow. “I’m not magic.”

                Iris chuckled as she pulled a bag from behind her back and put it within his line of sight.

                “You have to eat this Big Belly Burger with me.”

                Her smile was so bright and her eyes so earnest and pleading he couldn’t say no if he tried. So he didn’t try. He pulled himself up from the dirt and offered his dirty hand to Iris to help her up. She looked at his hand then up at him and, with grin, she took his hand and let him help her up. Her hand was small and warm in his large dirty palm. He was amazed when she didn’t drop his filthy hand as soon as she was on her feet again. Instead she tugged him along to one of the benches on the outskirts of the garden proper. At their approach, two previously dark outdoor lights lit up the bench. He couldn’t help but smile.

                They ate in silence, but it was comfortable. It allowed him to think. As much as he wanted to go back to his Earth, his Earth-1, his Earth Prime, he was stuck here on this Earth. This Earth would never be his Earth-1, this Earth would always be his Earth-2. It made it harder to accept that he was stuck here, but it also gave him hope that he would be able to get back home one day. Home. Would home be there after this? Zoom had killed Garrick, knew that they were on another Earth, knew that the breaches were all closed now. Would he still terrorize Central City? Would he go even further? Was his world doomed to suffer because Zoom was officially unstoppable? He didn’t know. And he hated not knowing.

                “It’ll be all right,” Iris said.

                He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Reading minds?”

                “Frown lines,” she said, pointing at his face. He nodded in understanding. “It’s good to have a hobby. Besides science.”

                “Oh, yeah?” he asked. She nodded and took a bite of her burger. “What’s yours?”

                “Boxing.”

                His eyes widened. “Really? You box?” he asked incredulously. He watched her roll her eyes and he smiled. Some perverse part of him liked upsetting people, putting them off balance. It gave him an edge.

                “Dad taught me. He tried to teach Barry and was mostly successful,” she said lightly. “Mostly.” She broke off into a fit of giggles over a memory he would never know.

                “We should spar sometime,” he said.

                “Take about ten showers and we’ll talk about it.”

                He laughed and marveled when she joined him in laughter. Her laugh was light and full of life while his was deep and rough from weariness. He enjoyed the contrast.


	3. The Sore-ning After

                Harrison woke in a cold sweat, his sheets soaked through, and his mind scrambling to gather information on his surroundings. S.T.A.R. Labs. Earth-2. Jesse.

                _JESSE!_

He whipped his head toward where he knew her bed was. She was there, sleeping peacefully, her chest rising and falling slowly. She was alive and safe and warm and safe and safe.

                Safe. Safe and resting. Something he wish he felt on this Earth.

                In short order he found himself showered and shaved. It wasn’t until he was dressed and standing at the coffee maker that he realized every muscle from the neck down ached. He should have noticed it sooner, really, but his mind had been elsewhere and he had woken up on this Earth injured and in a bed so many times, not feeling sore would feel out of place. At least that’s what he told himself to feel less like an old man who worked too hard in the backyard and more like a man of action getting his ass kicked.

                Harrison quietly went about his day. He tried to ignore the emptiness gnawing at his gut. Jesse was safe and that left him aimless, more than he wanted to admit to himself. Yes, he wanted to get back to his Earth, but Zoom would have to be taken care of in order for him to return home safely. Would Jesse want to return with him? He was to become a pariah when he returned. He had to take responsibility. He couldn’t burden Jesse with that. Maybe the world would be sympathetic toward her plight. Maybe she was better off severing all ties with him upon their return. Maybe he was better off alone. The one thing he could do for her to save her completely: leave her alone.

                As thoughts of leaving his daughter overwhelmed him, he dropped his work. The clank of metal hitting metal drew him from his thoughts. He was on autopilot again, working on a better, faster speed sapping serum. He was losing it, what little “it” he had these days.

                His melancholy introspection was further interrupted by Ramon returning to the workshop. He didn’t actually mind the kid most days. He may have even liked him, but he was such an eager puppy hungry for master’s attention, affection, and love it was off-putting. At times he wondered if he hadn’t wanted to fuck Thawne at some point.

                “Oh, hey Harry,” Ramon said. He didn’t stop to hover over Harrison. He barely stopped to say hi. Good. One less annoyance. “Movie night tonight.”

                Harrison sighed. “Yeah?”

                “Oh, yeah. I got Terminator and Alien. Figured we could watch those while Jesse chills with Iris and her brother.”

                “Why?” Harrison asked gruffly. “Are they porn?”

                Ramon scoffed at him. “No. These are gorey action films. I already asked Jesse her preference on movies which is why I picked tonight to show them.”

                “Pass.”

                “Oh, come on, Harry. Like you’re doing anything else.”

                He felt white hot anger rise up his throat. “Fuck you, Ramon,” he bit out. Fuck him. Fuck this Earth. Fuck Zoom. Fuck everything. He was tired. He was tired of being beaten up and beaten down and yelled at and suspected and stabbed and shot and punched in the face. He was tired of everything. He was tired of this Earth, these people, this life, this half-life.

                “Fuck _you_ , Harry,” Cisco shot back. “You’ve been a dick to me since you got here. You outted me as a meta, you forced me to tell you what Wells did to me, and you’ve just been a fucking headache. I’m glad you hate me so much because the feeling’s mutual.”

                Harrison didn’t move during Ramon’s tirade and he didn’t move after he stormed out. No, he sat there and took it. He knew he deserved that. He deserved more than that. Ramon should’ve hit him. Should’ve punched him right in his face. Not the mouth, because he could cut his knuckles and get a deadly infection, but he should’ve hit him right in the jaw. The kid had done nothing wrong, had even given him multiple chances to get right with him, but Harrison avoided it and him. And, now, he had no more chances. Fuck.

                No. He had to make this right. Somehow.

                Harrison dragged his sorry, sore ass out of the workroom and up to the Cortex where he found Barry, Joe, and Cisco gathered in front of the projection screen. They were in rolling chairs and munching popcorn. They looked happy, even from behind. He turned and left. And ran. He ran around S.T.A.R. Labs until his legs gave out, until the only thing running were tears down his cheeks and onto the floor. His lungs burned, his legs were numb, and he was a pile of black clothing sobbing on a hard concrete floor. He needed help. He couldn’t go on like this much longer.

                He needed help.


	4. Unwell Wells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wells breaks before finally seeking outside help.

                Harry doesn’t sleep at night. Oh, he lies down and tries for hours, but nothing comes from it. Or, rather, something does. Something horrible. Something that would keep him awake if he could sleep. His mind begins to wonder away from safety. His imagination takes him back to Earth-2, but, instead of rescuing Jesse, she died or he took her place. And she didn’t just die. No. Zoom phased his hand into her chest and removed her still beating heart then he tossed her like so much refuse onto the ground.

                “I told you, Wells, that you would pay,” Zoom would snarl.

                He crawled to Jesse on his belly, begging, pleading, crying. She didn’t know what was happening. She just looked up at him with her big blue eyes, tears flowing freely.

                “Daddy,” she’d say, “don’t let me go.” And he’d hold her and promise he would never let her go and rock her back and forth and back and forth until she stilled in his arms. And Zoom, that horrid creature, would tear his daughter away from him and dangle her heart in his face. Then the torture began. Zoom recorded everything. He tied Harrison up in a cage and made him watch his daughter’s death over and over until he was an empty husk of a man. But Zoom didn’t kill him in the end, oh no, he took Wells back to S.T.A.R. Labs and made him admit to everything being his fault. Even then, Zoom kept him alive and hung him on a wall. He was nothing more than a trophy.

                Other times he traded himself for Jesse. She escaped to the safety of Earth-1, her new Earth-1, while he submitted himself to Zoom’s torture. First went his career, then his billions, then his body, then his mind. When Zoom finally tired of poking at a walking corpse, he simple snapped Harrison’s neck and tossed his body down the cliff side for scavengers to pick at. That one wasn’t so bad. He preferred that one to seeing Jesse dying in any form. Perhaps that’s why his mind killed Jesse in a variety of horrid ways, ways he could never prevent or stop. It was driving him mad.

                He continued like this for a week before his body finally had enough. At least that’s what he thought had happened, he wasn’t one-hundred percent sure; he was only sure that he woke up in the small infirmary in a bed normally reserved for a bout of heroics. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, he was also sure that every muscle in his body hurt and that he was tired. And he wasn’t alone. He was sure of more than he knew, apparently.

                “Good morning, Dr. Wells.” It was Dr. Snow.

                “Jesse? Where?” he rasped. He needed water. Perhaps Snow would let him have a sip or two soon.

                “Safe and sound. She and Iris should be returning shortly.”

                “What happened?”

                “You passed out from extreme exhaustion. I was worried for your sanity, but your brain scans appear to be within normal range.”

                “How long?”

                “Three days.”

                He nodded and that satisfied her. She started poking and prodding at him. It didn’t matter. Nothing but Jesse mattered. He stared at the white ceiling above the bed. Nothing but Jesse mattered. Nothing but Jesse mattered. Nothing but Jesse mattered. Nothing. But Jesse. Mattered.

***

                He was back on his feet within twenty-four hours despite Snow’s protests. It was only when Jesse, sweet, quick Jesse, banished him to a small recovery room outfitted with a comfortable twin bed, computer, and a clear glass board with as many white markers and erasers as he could handle, did he finally slow down. He needed help, but he couldn’t exactly leave this place and try to find it. He sat on the bed for a moment before pulling out the S.T.A.R. Labs cell phone Ramon had given him. He searched his contact list for Iris, tapped the message button, and wrote.

                “Hello, Iris. Harrison Wells. I need help,” he typed.

                A few minutes later, Iris replied.

                _sure, h, what’s up?_

                He hesitated. _How does the Internet operate here?_

                _i’m not going to help you find porn, h._

                He scoffed at his phone. The audacity. He could find it on his own. If he wanted to. And he didn’t, thank you very much, Miss West.

                _Haha. Please tell me what the best search engine to use is._

_google. gtg, covered convo w/bathroom break. can help later if needed. – i_

                Google seemed innocuous enough. Clean, quick, and with relevant links to his search. He scanned a few lines before selecting a forum that specialized in grief, loss, homesickness, and general depression. This may be just the thing he needed to get back on the right path.


	5. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry makes a little progress and Jesse comes clean about her nights out.

                Harry is tired. He’d been up all night chatting with others in similar situations to his own. It had been freeing, but now he can barely keep his eyes open. He doesn’t have anything important to work on today, which is just as well, he doubts he can focus on anything for long. He knows that Jesse has picked up on his tiredness, it’s the only time he’s really vulnerable to her manipulations (“It’s just one dance, dad, please!”), and she’s as quick as ever to take advantage.

                “Dad, I have something to tell you,” she starts.

                A million scenarios run through his head. He’s too young to be a grandfather. Oh, god, did she kill someone? Is she suddenly a metahuman? He signals for her to continue before his brain burns itself out.

                “I’ve been… sneaking out at night.” Oh, _god_ , he’s going to be a grandfather. “With Iris.”

                “What?” he asks harshly.

                “Not like _that_ , dad, gross. I mean not that that would be gross I mean – dammit dad!”

                “Just continue, Jesse. I’m very tired.”

                “She’s been taking me to a support group.”

                “Oh. Well. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Relief floods through him. He’s not going to be a grandfather any time soon.

                “I’m not ashamed of the counseling part, just the whole going behind my father’s back part. And it’s not really shame so much as… guilt.”

                “Daddy is very tired right now, Jesse. I forgive you. Go play Jenga with Cisco or something.”

                “Actually, he brought a game console and we’re gonna play Dance Dance Revolution.”

                “I loved that when I was your age.”

                “Haha, dad.”

                “Tell Cisco –” he almost says “Tell Cisco thank you,” but he wants to deliver the words himself to the man himself. He can fix this; he just has to try. “To come here a minute, please.”

                “Don’t throw anything at him.”

                “Me?”

                Jesse arches a brow at him and he smirks at how much she looks like him in that moment.

***

                It doesn’t take Cisco long to reach the workroom. Harry can tell he doesn’t want to be there, he’s only there because Jesse asked him or threatened him. She’s sweet like that.

                “Cisco,” he says. Cisco jumps. For once his voice isn’t gruff or grating, it’s normal and soft. “Thank you.”

                “Uh,” Cisco mutters, “you’re welcome?”

                “When’s the next movie night?”

                “Tomorrow night. You joining or asking when to avoid us?”

                “Joining.”

                “I’ll make extra popcorn.”

                “Thanks.”

                Progress. It’s slow, but steady. He liked it.


End file.
